


a trick of the eye, a slight of the hand

by chahakyn



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death Fix, Death Threats, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Ep. 159 Fix-It, LonelyEyes, M/M, Spoilers for S4, Threats of Violence, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25556122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chahakyn/pseuds/chahakyn
Summary: The kind of dance that dangerous men do when twisted up in each other.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	a trick of the eye, a slight of the hand

Here is a simple statement: Peter Lukas does not like Elias Bouchard.

\---

They meet at the Magnus Institute when Peter visits for the first time in years, at the request of the new Head. He slides into the lobby, invisible, and perches on one of the chairs, watching the rather dull employees occasionally drift back and forth between departments.

“Peter Lukas.”

Peter looks up at the man standing a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back. Peter makes himself visible before standing, startling the receptionist. She babbles out apologies until the man holds up his hand to stop her.

“Elias Bouchard, Head of the Magnus Institute. I appreciate you coming all this way.” Their hands meet in a firm shake, the knowing look Elias gives Peter before heading to his office raising the hairs at the back of his neck. Peter warily follows, and they end up talking about expense reports and tax returns and paperwork, grazing over the details. It all slides into the kind of hazy, absentminded bureaucratic conversations people who are financially well-to-do can have in their sleep. Peter is, honestly, rather bored. Would be more bored if he wasn’t silently wracking his brain as to what bothered him so intensely about Elias.

Peter doesn’t realize it until their gazes meet head-on in the middle of a lull in the conversation. Elias’s eyes, piercingly cold and blue, bear an uncanny resemblance to James Wright’s eyes, he notices. No. That’s wrong. Peter doesn’t talk to many people, but that plays in his favor because he never forgets a face. He met the former Head of the Institute only once, but he knows that Elias’s eyes are the _exact_ same as James’s.

“You—” Peter’s eyes widen as he stifles his shock, the implications of his observation making his head spin in confusion. Elias sits up just a little straighter, raising a brow.

“Yes? What about me?”

Peter’s mouth snaps shuts, eyes narrowing. This is _bad_ , he did not plan for this at all—

“Peter,” Elias says, voice smoothly dipping lower, “ **What _about_ me _?_** ”

Peter smothers a gasp. He tries to clamp his lips together, but his body fights his intentions, mouth opening as he grits out, “Your eyes…they—they aren’t _yours_.”

“They certainly are not.” Elias leans forward, looking oddly delighted.

“You’re…James?”

“Not quite.” The corner of his lip twitches up. Peter thinks suddenly of the portrait of Jonah Magnus, sitting on the wall behind the receptionist in the waiting room. A similar version of portrait hanging on the wall just over the doorway of Elias’s office. Those icy eyes, sharp chips of blue, staring down at Peter from all sides.

“Jonah Magnus.”

“Oh, you _are_ observant, aren’t you?” Elias is suddenly standing in front of him, leaning against the edge of the desk. He regards Peter for a moment before reaching up, grabbing Peter’s chin and kissing him roughly. It’s not a kind kiss, teeth clacking together, noses pressed uncomfortably against each other. Peter can feel Elias grinning into it.

Peter resists at first. But then he stops, his mind registering a hint of that familiar taste on Elias’s tongue of what his god craves. It’s quite well-hidden; he wouldn’t have felt it if he wasn’t so close to him. Peter begins to reciprocate, kissing Elias deeper and winding his fingers through the hair at the nape of Elias’s neck, chasing the sensation. And then finally, he finds it, buried deep in Elias, hidden away. Not just Elias’s emotions, but Jonah Magnus’s as well, both twisted around each other so tightly it’s hard to see where one ends and the other begins. But it doesn’t change that fact that this body is housing twice the standard amount of isolation, both very intense in their own ways. How _enticing_. Elias Bouchard may not be someone he would normally want to know, but this changes things considerably. _This_ is something worth exploring.

Peter tries to dig just a little deeper, beginning to tease apart the complexities separating the two feelings. But then Elias pulls away, regarding him carefully. Peter has the faintest sense of being peeled open before Elias’s—well, Jonah’s eyes. And then Elias smiles, a wicked, knowing little thing.

“I think you and I are going to get along quite well, hm?”

\---

Elias is attractive in a way that Peter would _never_ admit to aloud. Tall and handsome, but also knowledgeable, confident, and quite ruthless. He knows exactly what he is capable of, and how to use things around him to tip the scales in his favor. That doesn’t mean Peter _likes_ the man. But despite that, Peter just shrugs and nods when Elias calmly suggests they go to his flat for the evening. He doesn’t know what constitutes getting along well, but he supposes good sex would fall under that category.

And Elias is _very_ good. He presses Peter into the sheets and fucks him like he _knows_ him, every one of Peters’ thoughts and feelings bared for Elias to dig his fingers into. Elias fucks him hard and rough, holding Peter’s wrists down against the pillow, biting down on Peter’s skin, fighting him for control every step of the way. Peter’s larger, easily stronger, but there’s just something about Elias, fiercely insistent with such a delightfully cruel look in his eyes, that takes his breath away, takes his strength away enough to let Elias lead.

Peter’s breath hitches as Elias thrusts into him, nails digging into the skin of his hip. His eyes are trained on Peter, gaze burning against his skin. They’ve barely just met, and Elias already _knows_ too much. Even when he doesn’t, he looks at Peter like he does. It’s frustrating and uncomfortable, making Peter want to curl into himself and disappear into the Lonely. But he doesn’t. The thought of avoiding Elias in that manner makes his skin crawl. A Lukas, letting someone under the Eye get the better of him? Absolutely not.

So, he meets Elias’s heated gaze, hips snapping up to meet his thrusts. Elias laughs breathlessly at this, the sound sending a shiver up Peter’s spine. It’s not long before Elias’s back arches and he’s spilling into Peter, fingers digging into his shoulder. And as much as he dislikes Elias, it’s certainly a pretty enough sight to tip him over the edge as well. Elias lights a cigarette after they’ve cleaned up, offering it casually to Peter. Peter doesn’t take it.

“Good?” he asks, shrugging elegantly and blowing a soft stream of smoke up at the ceiling.

Peter sighs. “Alright.”

“If you say so,” Elias replies, amused.

\---

Peter leaves in the middle of the night, slipping silently out of the bed and out the door. They’ve been playing Elias’s game so far, all-seeing eyes and smugly knowing glances. A little change of pace in Peter’s favor would do both of them good. And besides, it’s in his nature to do that; leave things behind. He can feel the Tundra calling, another voyage nearly upon them. Peter hopes it’s a longer one, because he has a feeling the Head of the Institute will be wanting him back again. And he’ll need all the time he can get to prepare himself—

A sudden wave of emotion washes over Peter, nearly bowling him over. He grips the railing, knuckles white, as his body drinks in the feeling of Elias’s (and Jonah’s) disappointment and frustration. He can almost see Elias, sitting up in the empty bed, fisting the sheets as he swears, pushing his fingers through his hair. Lost, confused, angry at both himself and Peter.

 _Don’t know me so well, do you Elias?_ Peter thinks smugly to himself, tucking his chin deeper into his scarf as the wind rushes past him on the deck. Perhaps aligning himself more closely with Elias won’t be such a terrible thing after all. What he provides is an exquisite feeling, something much, much different from the kind of thrill Peter gets from the others he encounters and marks. He smiles to himself as he stares out at the sea, welcoming it like an old friend.

\---

“Hello, Elias.” Peter says, strolling into the Institute after months on the sea.

“Peter. I didn’t think you were interested in coming back,” Elias sniffs, barely glancing up from his computer screen. Peter has to stifle a laugh at Elias’s muted indignance as he closes the door gently behind him. Elias, of course, Knows that Peter is amused at this whole affair. He gets up and steps forward, yanking Peter closer by the lapel of his heavy overcoat, gaze sharp.

“You left.”

“That I did,” Peter says quietly, eyes roving Elias’s face.

“Make it up to me,” Elias demands, almost petulantly, and Peter does laugh this time, bending down a little to scrape his teeth against the hollow of Elias’s throat. Elias hums and tilts his head back slightly, hands moving to curl lightly around Peter’s neck. His thumbs suddenly press hard against Peter’s throat.

Peter’s breath catches. “Elias,” he murmurs warningly. Elias blinks innocently, stilling. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips, and Peter knows this is Elias’s retribution. An act to tip the scales back in his favor.

“What would you do if I just…” Elias trails off, the pressure still just shy of uncomfortable against Peter’s skin. He increases it.

Peter hisses, torn between two choices. His god, intrigued at this little display, whispers to Peter that he should let Elias go on and _do_ _it_ , because Elias is clearly interested in Peter, and what’s more lonely than killing something you might care for before you’ve a chance to learn to love? All that potential wasted, late nights spent tossing and turning and thinking of what might have been, what could never be. A veritable feast for the Forsaken.

Despite that, his own mind rebels at letting Elias have the upper hand, teeth gritting in frustration. Albeit, his defiance is weak; his cock twitches in his trousers at the thought of Elias’s lovely fingers tightening, stealing his breath away and leaving dark bruises in his wake.

Elias sees this and the smile at the corner of his mouth twists into something beautiful and quite sinister. He presses just a bit harder for a moment before loosening his grip and letting his hands trail up Peter’s face, touch gentle and almost loving.

“I’ll find out another day, hm?”

Peter scowls at him before their lips brush together; a facsimile of affection, when there’s nothing there other than twin feelings of hunger, their respective gods reaching for what they deem theirs. And yet, Peter can’t help but be drawn in.

\---

He never met Elias before whatever Jonah did to him. So, he supposes that the person he’s getting to know is really Jonah, in the end. But he decides to call him Elias anyways, because as long as it’s been since people have consistently called Jonah by his true name, it seems to still hurt him. Not overtly, but in a more subtle and delicate way. Peter digs for it almost greedily, twisting the name like a knife between Elias’s ribs and murmuring it against his lips to send them both over the edge, again and again and again.

\---

Peter shuts the door to Elias’s office behind him, the lock snapping into place.

“Hello,” Elias says nonchalantly, back firmly to him as he flicks through some papers. “Why did you lock the door?”

Peter grabs Elias by the shoulders, whipping him around. “You _grounded_ the Tundra,” he snarls, eyes uncharacteristically wild as he regards Elias with pure fury.

Elias doesn’t even bother to look chagrined. “I did.”

“ _Why_.”

“Perhaps I wanted you to stay a little longer,” he murmurs as his fingers slide up Peter’s arms to rest on his shoulders, ever so coy in his affection.

“Bastard,” Peter spits out. Elias only laughs.

“If you want to go sail away at sea, all you have to do is ask nicely, Peter.” His voice is gentle and kind, almost benevolent. But there’s a sharpness under it that Peter can feel, the part of Elias that is leaning forward in interest, the same way one is interested in the fate of an insect they have trapped in a small plastic cup as they try to guess what the scuttling, fearful creature will do to save itself. Peter doesn’t respond, jaw tightening.

Elias sighs. “It’s really not that hard. **Why don’t you ask** —"

Peter quickly traps Elias’s jaw between his calloused fingers, pushing his thumb against Elias’s canine. Elias freezes for a moment, eyes darting across Peter’s face.

“Trying to Compel me, Elias?” Peter growls lowly, fingers forcing Elias’s mouth open wider. Elias raises an eyebrow, the soft exhale of his breath fanning against Peter’s palm.

 _I don’t need to compel you to get what I want_ , his gaze says, cold and quiet. His hand rests casually on Peter’s cheek, a long slender finger tapping gently against his eyebrow. Peter can feel him digging into his mind, Knowing what he’s feeling, thinking.

Peter gives Elias a smile that’s more teeth than anything warm and soft, as he lets his mind sink deep enough into the Lonely that Elias can’t quite reach, while keeping his body grounded in reality. He sees Elias’s brows twist down in confusion, and then anger.

“Try grounding me again, and I will make sure you _pay_ for it, “ Peter says quietly.

Long voyages on the ocean, where there’s nothing to do, are a good time to learn how to protect yourself. It’s not foolproof, and he can’t hold it for very long. But it’s one more thing Peter has to lord over the Eye, to prove that he’s not as easy as Elias may think he is.

\---

Elias finds other ways to push at Peter, bend him, try to break him open for observation. But, the more Peter fights back, the more enamored Elias seems to become. Though, he has no right to think Elias strange for that. Peter sticks around for his own reasons, other than that fact that their relationship feeds The One Alone well. Elias is possessive, cruel, manipulative, and, frankly, a shitty person. But Peter still finds him more enjoyable than he ever thought he would.

Here is a simple statement: Peter Lukas does not like Elias Bouchard.

Maybe that very simple statement is incorrect.

\---

It’s a surprise to everyone when Peter asks Elias to marry him, Peter most of all. He isn’t prepared in the slightest; no ring, no plan, no rehearsed words running through his mind. It just pops out of Peter’s mouth as they’re sitting in the office, Elias rifling through budget reports and cursing Gertrude’s travel expenses.

“She’s doing quite a good job, but I don’t understand why she needs to gallivant off to America and sightsee to—"

“Marry me, Elias.” Not a request, barely a proposal, mostly just a statement, a fact that is unquestionably true. Peter doesn’t even understand what possesses him to propose; marriage shouldn’t align with his values, his goals, his personality, speak nothing of the Forsaken’s desires. But the words feel right as they leave his mouth, sitting plainly on the desk between them. Elias’s mouth falls open slightly before quickly clicking closed.

“I suppose so,” Elias replies crisply, giving Peter a careful once over before nodding and pulling paperwork out of the drawer. A marriage license, already filled out.

“Fuck you,” Peter gasps out, half pleased, and half annoyed as hell. Elias laughs, gaze almost fond as he hands Peter a pen, fingers brushing against his.

“Don’t be so cross, I held back from choosing rings so you could at least contribute _something_ to this marriage.”

Peter scoffs, signing the papers without a second glance before pulling Elias close and melding their lips together in a heated kiss. Elias hums against his mouth, pleased, fingers tightening in Peter’s hair.

\---

_God, I might actually love you_ , Peter thinks desperately. The metal of Elias’s wedding band is warm against his cold skin, a strange constant in their time together now.

“Do a better job of showing it, then,” Elias gasps into Peter’s mouth, nails digging deeper into Peter’s shoulder. Peter laughs and wonders if Elias loves him as well, if he can feel that inescapable tug of affection, the endless orbit of pain that their love seems to stem from.

He thinks he can read Elias’s answer in his eyes, greedily drinking Peter in.

\---

“Would you look after the Institute if I were to be gone?”

“Why?” Peter asks, looking up with a start. “Are you leaving?”

“No, no,” Elias says, thoughtful. “Not yet, at least.”

Peter turns away, an odd feeling sitting heavy in his stomach. The thought of Elias leaving is…unsettling. A tip in the balance of the strange relationship they have. Elias has the advantage of force, the power to hold Peter down and pry the words he wants to hear from his throat. Elias is strong in that way, but Peter has the power of evasion, of escape. He can just walk away. Elias encroaching on his territory doesn’t sit well for Peter. And yet—

“What’s in it for me?” Peter says finally, ignoring the glint in Elias’s eye. He hasn’t agreed to it yet. But he will, and Elias knows that.

\---

There are some perks to being acting Head of the Magnus Institute. For one, he’s now fully within his rights to sit in the lobby in his off time, hidden from sight, and observe the employees. Dip into their swirling emotions as they pass him, tasting them. He’s doing just that one day when the receptionist (Rosie? He’s not quite sure of her name) suddenly slumps down in her seat, unconscious. A moment later, she’s sitting up ramrod straight, eyes locked on the spot where Peter sits, invisible. A thin trickle of blood drips from her nose.

“You’re ignoring my summons,” she says in a voice that isn’t her own. Her eyes are a familiar, icy blue color.

Peter scoffs, materializing. “Oh, so you’re _summoning_ me now?”

“You’re running _my_ Institute. I would like to know what you’re doing in all the time that you’re lurking around.”

“You can see me lurking just fine. Shouldn’t that be good enough for you?” Peter leans back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

Elias’s expression darkens. “Come. See. Me.”

Peter unfolds himself from the chair, casually strolling to the desk where he plants his hand on the wood. “Not even a please?”

“ _Peter_ ,” Elias snaps, clearly annoyed. Peter shrugs, almost hiding his smile. They stare at each other, the seconds stretching out unbearably long.

“Fine,” Elias snaps, eyes narrowing in irritation, “ _Please_ , come see me Peter.” Peter laughs and brushes his thumb gently beneath Rosie’s chin before pulling away. Elias’s eyes dilate ever so slightly.

“Not that hard, was it?” Peter calls over his shoulder as he walks away. He can feel Elias’s gaze on him all the way down the hall.

\---

Peter can feel the phantom sensation of Elias’s fingers creeping up his thigh when he visits him in prison. He throws Elias a nasty glare.

“Any problems at the Institute?” Elias asks in lieu of an apology. He folds his hands together, the gentle _clink_ of his handcuffs a reminder of where they are, what they are supposed to do. The ghostly touch of Elias’s fingers doesn’t go away.

\---

Peter falls to his knees in the sand, his mind filled with searing pain. It was _too_ close; he could feel the fabric of his existence attempting to tear itself apart when he refused to bend to the Archivist’s Compelling. It’s a miracle that he’s still alive, honestly. The man is _strong_ ; Peter was a fool to doubt that.

“I warned, you know.”

Peter looks up blearily to see Elias standing in front of him, smug expression gracing his face. Surprising that he’s here, really. Peter knows it takes an immense amount of effort for Elias to enter the Lonely, let alone produce a corporeal body while inside.

“I told you it would be a bit of a gamble. But _no_ , you took it anyways.”

“You knew I’d take it,” Peter snarls weakly, frustrated. Elias smile widens.

“I did. And it paid off for me, didn’t it?”

Peter doesn’t reply, head dropping in exhaustion. His arms shake with the effort of holding himself up.

“I thought you’d be dead, you know,” Elias says as lowers himself, crouching next to Peter. Peter lets out a weak noise, digging his fingernails into his thigh to center himself.

“Upset that I’m still here?”

Elias sighs in mock disappointment. “Oh, I suppose not. There are worse things that could happen.”

Peter growls and grabs Elias by the tie. He kisses Elias harshly, licking into his mouth to feel something familiar against his tongue. The taste of Elias’s emotions grounds him, allowing him to garner enough strength to sit up a little straighter. Their eyes meet.

“Don’t pull something like that _again_ , Elias,” Peter says lowly.

“Or what, Peter? You’ll _kill_ me?” Elias’s eyes glitter, cruel delight in his gaze.

 _Wouldn’t you like to know_ , Peter thinks, pleased at the frustrated furrow of Elias’s eyebrows as he kisses him soundly again.

**Author's Note:**

> still cant believe i made it all the way up to s4 finale thinking lonelyeyes was actually a canon pairing. it’s been weeks and i’m still reeling. ya’ll are insane
> 
> come find me on [ tumblr](https://shizuoi.tumblr.com/) if you want to talk more!


End file.
